


Who We Are

by integrase



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Discussing sexual orientation, F/F, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/integrase/pseuds/integrase
Summary: A drabble. Zazzalil feels like an outsider for newly-realized reasons and needs to talk it out. Her wife, Jemilla, reassures her that she is perfectly beautiful just the way she is.





	Who We Are

“Hey, Jemilla,” begins Zazzalil. “You know how you went off to that other tribe for a while?”

“Uh-huh,” replies Jemilla, brushing out her wet brown hair. She, Zazzalil, and the rest of the tribe had spent the day swimming in the river, practicing what Emberly called “the chest stroke” and what Schwoopsie immediately renamed “the breast stroke” after Keeri lost her top trying it out.

“Well,” continues Zazzalil hesitantly. “You had all of those husbands and wives, right? Like, you married a whole bunch of people.”

This makes Jemilla look up. “Yes. And I left them to come back here, so I’m not married to anyone but you now. Why?”

Zazzalil feels her face get warm. Her messy waves are already pulled back into her iconic ponytail, so she has nothing to hide her blush behind. She sits down on their shared bed and pulls a blanket around her shoulders.

“Um, Smelly-Balls came onto me while we were swimming.”

Jemilla looks horrified and her eyes go wide. “He WHAT?”

Zazzalil splutters, “Oh my god, not like that! I meant he started suggesting I marry him, too.”

“Oh!” laughs Jemilla in relief. “Okay. Wow. Okay.” She returns to brushing, with a grin on her face as she giggles to herself about what she thought Zazzalil had said. “Being married to lots of people is fine, and we can talk about it if you want to be in more relationships.”

“I don’t think I want to see other people right now.”

“Okay, then what’s the problem, babe?”

Zazzalil pulls the blanket more tightly around her body. She sits cross-legged, her body sinking into the pile of furs that make up the bed. The light in the hut is fading as the sun goes down after the long day of swimming, and she can feel the exhaustion in her body from challenging the rest of the tribe to a swimming race. (The only reason Keeri won is being her limbs are so long. Definitely that.)

“Is it weird, that I...” says Zazzalil, looking out the open window, then to the floor. “Don’t ever want to marry a man?”

Jemilla sets down her hairbrush and joins Zazzalil on the bed, shifting the blanket on her wife’s back so it covers both of their shoulders. The warmth feels like the love in Zazzalil’s heart for this tall, smart woman.

“Zazz, of course it’s not weird,” reassures Jemilla. “Why do you think it’s abnormal?”

Zazzalil feels a tear threaten to roll down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away before explaining. “You like men and women, Tiblyn likes men and women, Grunt likes men and women... basically everyone here likes men and women, and other kinds of people, too. Except Keeri, who doesn’t really like anybody at all. It just makes me feel like an outsider when I think about how I only like women.”

Her wife lets out a noise of sympathy and pulls her in to an embrace. “I didn’t realize you were feeling like that, babe. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” says Zazzalil. “You’re not a mind reader... it’s just that stupid Smelly-Balls got me thinking about how I can’t see myself with a man- unless he was both the hottest guy on earth and if there were no women left, which is how I felt about that Clark guy.”

“Okay.” Jemilla kisses her wife on the cheek.

After a few moments, the pair drop the blanket; the summer evening is much too hot for them to stay covered. They both flop back onto their bed, Jemilla rolled over to face Zazzalil, and Zazzalil on her back to stare up at the ceiling as she processes her feelings.

“We’re all just wired different, Zazz,” says Jemilla. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know, babe.”

“Molag is actually the same as you, by the way.”

This makes Zazzalil roll over to face her wife. “Huh?”

Jemilla looks into her wife’s big brown eyes and smiles. “Yeah, that’s why she adopted me. There was no one in the tribe at the time that she both liked and could make a baby with, so she clobbered my parents to death and took me as her own.” She pauses, and then adds, “I think we can and should find non-lethal alternatives to stealing babies now, though.”

The shorter woman reflects on this new tidbit of information and suddenly doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Her wife continues, “And when I was in the other tribe, there was a man there that didn’t want to marry me because he only liked men. I’m sure you’ll find women that only like men, and vice versa, somewhere too.”

In response, Zazzalil reaches down and intertwines her fingers with those of her wife. “That’s a bizarre thought.”

“Isn’t it?” snorts Jemilla.

They laugh together, and then kiss gently. When they break the kiss, they remain forehead to forehead.

“I love you, Zazz, and everything about you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, too, Jemilla.”


End file.
